In The Night
by penniesfacesideup
Summary: After Karofsky's death threats, Kurt decides to transfer to Dalton. There he is plagued by nightmares and self-harming. With help from Blaine and the rest of the Warblers, Kurt hopes to eventually heal. FIRST STORY. I DO NOT OWN GLEE  I wish!
1. Chapter 1

CHAPTER ONE

In all the books Kurt read (and he read a quite large number of books) whenever something bad happened to the character, it always seemed to happen in slow-motion. Or, as the author would phrase it, "time seemed to slow down." Reflecting upon that day, he would give a bitter and forced laugh, his greenish-blue eyes flashing with disguised pain. The books had lied.

One minute, Kurt was smiling giddily to himself, reading a text from Blaine- the dreamy, dapper, curly headed warbler from Dalton.

It read _COURAGE._

Ever since his failed spying attempt and Dalton, Kurt had felt like he was walking on clouds. Every night, before he went to sleep, Kurt re-played the memories in his head. The first time he looked into those beautiful hazel eyes, a large, warm, comforting hand enveloping his small one and the song Blaine has sung- Teenage Dream. Kurt had since kept in contact with the Junior Warbler and even met him for a series of coffee dates. Every time Blaine spoke or laughed or _breathed_ Kurt's heart fluttered gently. He couldn't deny his attraction, no matter how hard he tried. And truthfully, Kurt didn't want to hide it.

A second later he was pushed, no, _slammed_ into the cold metal lockers. Shiny specks clouded his vision, his head swimming. He slid down the length of the lockers in absolute shock.

"Fag!"

Karofsky smiled smugly at Kurt, then turned and walked away. Kurt's legs and mouth reacted faster than his brain could. He pushed himself up and chased after the neanderthal, his mind still not fully registering the words coming out of his mouth. He found himself in a gym locker room with bad lighting and burnt orange lockers. The fashionista inside Kurt shuddered, disgusted with the clashing colors. His mouth was still moving as he pulled what he hoped was a fearless face onto his delicate features.

"You are just a scared little boy!" he shouted at the tall looming figure in front of him, passion coloring his words. Kurt didn't exactly remember the banter happening after that, but he would be haunted by suddenly having his words cut off. A pair of chapped lips attacked his own, kissing hard and forcefully. Kurt tensed and stayed stiff as a board until Karofsky pulled away. Kurt almost felt pity at the confused puppy dog look currently being displayed by Karofsky, but when he leaned for another kiss, Kurt steeled himself and used all the muscles in his lanky frame to push back the other boy. Karofsky somehow managed to look confused, rejected, spitting mad, scared and shocked all at once.

"Don't tell."

And Kurt didn't.


	2. Chapter 2

**Authors Note: Oh my gaga! Thank you all SO MUCH for these subscribes and favorites! I'm sorry this took so long, but I've been VERY busy! I promise to try harder next time! Please review just to tell me what you think ! Happy Reading!**

_**Chapter 2**_

Kurt had never been mean. If someone had on a… _unfortunate_ outfit, or didn't have the best hair-cut, Kurt was more than happy to help. Never making fun, just making the others look better and feel better. So when Kurt was keeping Karofsky's secret, fear wasn't the only thing stopping him from telling someone. Part of it was compassion.

Kurt never struggled with his sexuality. He knew it from the beginning, he like boys and fashion and Broadway musicals and he was proud of that. His father, who loved Kurt more than anything, did not kick Kurt out or call him disgusting when Kurt told his father he was gay. Instead, Burt told his son he had accepted as much and even though it would take some time to get used to it, Burt loved Kurt and accepted him no matter what. Maybe Karofsky didn't have that, and no way did Kurt want to make life harder for someone who was already struggling.

When Kurt was finally able to semi-recover from the Karofsky incident, he got up shakily from the cold (and disgustingly dirty) locker room floor. It was already half way into 5th period, and Kurt didn't have glee that day. He walked out of the locker room, his legs moving robotically to his locker. He grabbed his car keys and his bag, and walked out. Once Kurt got into his car, he did not put the keys into the ignition. Instead, he threw his things in the back, pulled up his knees so he could rest his chin on them and sat in pure silence. He didn't know when he started to cry, but once he realized there were salty tears caressing his delicate, porcelain features, he couldn't stop. He sat and he sobbed and sobbed and sobbed. He didn't understand what his problem was, whenever Karofsky attacked Kurt before, it just made him angry, or shocked, or determined. Never had he felt this… depression, this stomach aching sorrow that made him have these rib-racking sobs.

Finally Kurt stopped crying. He sat sniffling, rubbing his bloodshot red eyes, taking deep breaths and thinking. Finally it dawned on Kurt why he felt this way. Karofsky had stolen something from him. Something so precious and dear, something he could never get back.

_Karofsky had stolen Kurt's first kiss._

If he hadn't already cried out every drop of moisture in his body, Kurt was sure a fresh round of tears would have appeared. He mentally reprimanded himself.

_Stop it! Pull yourself together Kurt! COURAGE, remember? Oh gaga who am I kidding. What am I going do? _

In the midst of the confusion going on inside his head and his sobbing, Kurt failed to notice he had been sitting out in his car for the past few hours. School was let out and he was awoken from his mental struggle by a sharp rapping on his door. Kurt jumped a foot in the air, banging his head on the top of his car. Massaging the newly formed lump, Kurt look over to the window to see who it was. Mercedes, his best friend was giving Kurt a "Really, white boy?" look while at the same time her eyes searched for something deeper.

Mercedes knew there was something wrong. First off, Kurt had skipped English, his favorite class, and his only class with Mercedes. As a general rule, Kurt did not skip class. Especially not English.

"Jumpy much?"

"Sorry 'Cedes. A little too much coffee this morning I guess."

A lame excuse. Mercedes narrowed her eyes at her friend, but chose to let it slide.  
>"Whatever. Listen white boy, Rachel, Tina and I were going to go to the mall around 5. You up for it?"<p>

"Uh… I have a lot of homework… and some project for French… I think I'm going to have to pass for tonight."

**Now **Mercedes was worried and a bit curious. Kurt never passed up shopping and puh-lease, he was one of the smartest kids at McKinley! Homework took him about an hour. Mercedes was about to protest when Kurt cut in.

"-You know what 'Cedes, I just don't feel very good. I have the worst headache and I'm getting the chills. I think I'm going to skip tomorrow and just go home and sleep."

Kurt _was _looking a little pale.

"Alright Kurt. But remember, I'm here for you boy, don't you forget! Now go get your skinny white-ass in bed."  
>Kurt smiled slightly at his best friend. Mercedes always knew when something was up. His smile fell when he realized he couldn't tell Mercedes. He loved his friend to death, but she was a blabber mouth. Besides, Karofsky would kill him if he told anyone.<p>

Kurt didn't know how true that after thought would become.

_**TBC**_


	3. Chapter 3

**Authors Note: Ahhh you guys are all so sweet, I've been favorited and subscribed to left and right! If you have any feedback or suggestions, don't be afraid to inbox me or comment. xoxox (:**

**Chapter 3:**

Kurt drove home with a foggy mind and shaky hands. When he finally reached his house, he parked his car, sat for a few minutes, then almost robotically, got out and walked in. He threw his keys on the small table in the kitchen and called out.

"Hello? Is anyone home? Dad? Carole?"

Finn wouldn't be home until after football practice because the team always practiced on Monday - Thursday, and today was Thursday.

Thursday.

_Oh, SHIT!_

_!_

Kurt was quite the potty mouth.

But he did have a good reason. He always met Blaine for coffee at 3:00 on Thursdays, and it was… 2:58. Kurt raced upstairs and found his outfit he had selected the night before for their coffee… date. Kurt wasn't really sure what to call it. Kurt really really _really_ liked Blaine. Alas, it seemed that Blaine just saw Kurt as a friend. A nice-smelling, well dressed and smooth skinned friend. Kurt grabbed his keys and wallet and ran out to his car as fast as possible, almost slipping on the porch steps, still wet from rain earlier in the day.

Still mentally cursing himself, Kurt sent a quick text to Blaine before flooring it out of the driveway.

_Sorry, got caught up at school. Be there in a second, don't wait up for me!_

Ping!

_No problem. See you soon _

About eight minutes later, due to Kurt's excessive speeding, Kurt arrived in front Lima's local coffee house, the Java Bean. He practically ran across the parking lot and only stopped himself right before the door. He took a deep breath, plastered a smile onto his features and yanked open the door. Kurt walked in and looked around for Blaine, until he spotted him at their usual secluded booth in the back. When Blaine made eye contact with Kurt, his face lit up, then fell drastically into a concerned frown.

"Kurt! What happened?"

"What do you mean?"

"What do I mean? Kurt you're bleeding!"

"What?"

Sure enough, there were a few cuts on his knuckles that didn't look to deep, but a cut on his hand was still bleeding crimson liquid. Also, a bit of dried blood speckled his cheek next to red vertical marks going down his cheeks.

_Shit. Karofsky._

In his haste, Kurt had almost forgotten.

The memories hit him like a brick wall, and the air whooshed out of him. He rocked unsteadily for a few moments, until Blaine reached out and pulled him into the booth.

"Kurt? Kurt, what happened. Kurt, can you tell me who did this?"

Kurt's throat was as dry as the Sahara, but he forced the words out anyway.

"It's nothing Blaine. I'm fine… I just, uh, fell."

"Yeah right, Kurt. Seriously, what happened?"

Kurt, who had previously been avoiding Blaine's eyes, turned and blue met hazel. He stayed like that for what felt like eternity until a sob bubbled up in Kurt's throat.

"K-K-Karofsky."

"What? What about him? Did he do this to you?"

"… Y-y-yes."

Blaine was positively shocked and his mind was racing. Kurt had told him before about Karofsky and how he would shove him into lockers and call him fag or fairy or cocksucker. Blaine hadn't thought he would take it this far though. Kurt was _bleeding_ and crying for chrissake!

"Kurt. You need to tell me exactly what Karofsky did to you."

"He… He kissed me. And I tried to fight back Blaine I really did, but he was clawing at me and he shoved me up against the gym lockers and… and he…"

"Shhh, Kurt, Shh, it's going to be okay. You're okay."

He wrapped the taller boy up in a hug, whispering in his ear that it would be okay, he would be okay…

_Now_ Blaine was really angry. He knew that Kurt hadn't had his first kiss yet and well… Blaine was hoping maybe he could be the one Kurt would share it with.

_But there's no hope for that now_ thought Blaine bitterly.

_Idiot! Kurt is crying and bleeding and you're sitting here thinking about yourself!_

"Kurt, we need to go tell someone. Your principal, Mr. Schue, Ms. Pillsbury!"

Kurt had told Blaine a lot about McKinley and he knew that the teachers there (or most of them) accepted Kurt as they would any other student.

"NO!"

Kurt surprised himself and Blaine by shouting out, causing a few people in the coffee shop to throw him an odd look.

"I mean, no. Blaine, Karofsky is probably really having a hard time right now. I'm sure telling someone will only make it worse."

Blaine rolled his eyes, but he saw Kurt's point.

"Damn you and your good heart. Fine. But if anything like this happens again, Promise me you will call me immediately, no matter the time. I don't think I could stand it if you ever got seriously hurt."

The passion in Blaine's eyes set Kurt's heart a flutter, making him blush a delicate shade of pink.

"I promise."

Satisfied, Blaine smiled at him but was distracted by a text message from one of his best friends, Wesley Gaunt.

_Urgent Warbler Meeting for Sectionals, get your ass down here!_

Blaine groaned and sent Wes a text that he'd be there ASAP.

"Kurt I'm so sorry, I gotta-"

"I get it, Warbler thing. Go have fun."

Blaine smiled apologetically than ran out. Kurt gathered up his things slowly and walked to his car. Driving home, he thought about what he had told Blaine.

_So… is Karofsky gay? I mean… he kissed me so he must be, right? Oh yeah. He kissed me._

Suddenly feeling sick to his stomach, Kurt pulled his car over, got out and puked. It didn't do much, and still feeling dirty and sick, Kurt drove home and immediately took a shower. Drowning himself in the scalding water, Kurt rubbed his skin until it was pink and raw, trying to rub away Karofsky's touches and hot breath. Stumbling out of the shower, Kurt dried off and put on his favorite pair of silk Marc Jacobs pajama pants and a soft white tee-shirt. He walked slowly to his bed and laid down, yanking the comforter over him.

_I should do some homework… I haven't even eaten anything… My hair is going to look terrible tomorrow…. I should call Blaine or Mercedes later…_

But with each thought, Kurt just got more tired, until he eventually went to sleep.

That was the nightmare overtook him.

**TBC**

**In the next chapter, We will see Blaine's thoughts on the kiss and meet the warblers! Also we will learn about Kurt's nightmare. In the meantime, if you are looking for an AMAZING story, one of my favorites is "Lessons in Being a Man" by Whatsername Lambert, it's fantastic! **


	4. Chapter 4

_**Authors Note: I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I just got back from like… a week in nyc and 2 weeks in Lake Placid and I've been so busy and writers block and blah blah blah excuse excuse. You guys have been great, I have had so many favorites and have been put on A LOT of story alerts! Thank you thank you! Also, don't be afraid to review guys, I love getting reviews and messages from all of y'all. In this chapter we will meet Damian, an O/C who might be important later in the story… ;) xoxo lovelies! **_

**Chapter 4:**

"Junior Warbler Blaine Anderson!"

The banging of a gavel ripped Blaine away from his thoughts.

"What?"

Wes, an Asian-American tenor and council member banged his gavel, attempting to quiet down the snickering.

"Blaine Warbler. Thank you for _finally_ joing us."

Blaine tried to supress a smile at his friends huffy tone.

"Sorry Wes!" the smile on his face reflected into his voice.

"Hmph. Now. As we were saying before, we propose only 7 part harmony for Sectionals, but due to…"

Blaine sighed, barely following along as he let his mind wander (once again) to Kurt. He felt terrible. He had hypocritically told Kurt to stand up for himself and have courage, even when he hadn't been able to at his old school. Now Kurt had been sexually assaulted, was absolutely traumatized and it was all his fault.

_What kind of school is McKinley! Are there no rules preventing bullying? This would have never happened at Dalton… _

"Of course!" Blaine said aloud.

"See" said David, the other council member, "Blaine would _love_ to be lead soloist again."

He and Wes smirked at the other council member, Damian, who raised his hands in surrender.

"I had simply voiced that perhaps other members would like to have the opportunity to audition."

Blaine, realizing David had taken his outburst as a confirmation that he would like to be the soloist, tried to amend the situation.

"I mean, I understand what Damian's point. We should hold auditions."

Damian smiled gratefully at Blaine. He was new this year, but had a beautiful base and wasn't terrible looking either. Wes banged his gavel and nodded at Jeff, the council secretary.

"Auditions for the solo's in Rolling in the Deep, the Lion King Medley and for lead soloist will be help in a week, on the 28th. All are eligible."

Wes then banged his gavel once again and smiled.

"Rehearsal dismissed."

Blaine slung his bag over his should, waved goodbye to Wes and David, and walked back to his dorm, and idea churning in his head.

_Maybe…_

Kurt didn't often have nightmares, mostly he had dreamless nights or the occasional dream of his performing on Broadway, astounding crowds from all over. He did remember one reoccurring nightmare he had after his mom died.

In the nightmare, he would be in a forest with his mom and dad, laughing and talking.

It would always catch him off guard.

The sky would slowly grow darker as they walked, but caught up in their conversations, Kurt wouldn't notice. Suddenly, his mom would fall to the ground, and Kurt would stand, shocked, as his mom called for his help. His dad would have dissapeared and his mother would struggle and scream in pain right in front of him. No matter what he did, Kurt couldn't move or call for help. Then, with a heaved sob and a loud cry of "Kurt, help me!", pain in her eyes, she would fall silent and still.

Only then could Kurt move to cradle his mothers cold, dead, body in his arms.

Kurt used to wake up crying and screaming, only stopping when Burt came barreling in the room, sweeping Kurt out of bed and cradling his lanky 7 year old frame in his arms.

The nightmare stopped after a few months, but whenever he thought of it, Kurt couldn't help but shiver.

When Kurt slept tonight, his nightmare started off very similarly. He, at his current age, was walking in the same forest with his Mom, Dad, and Blaine. They all joked and walked together, with Blaine holding his hand.

Just like it had in his old nightmare, the sky slowly grew darker. Also like his old nightmare, Kurt didn't notice.

His Mom and Burt told Blaine and Kurt to meet them back at the car in an hour, turned and left. Kurt and Blaine talked and smiled and laughed for five minutes until Kurt heard a dark chuckle in his ear.

"Hello faggot."

Karofsky pulled Kurt up by his hair, and roaring with laughter tied him to the nearest tree with a rope. Then, he turned on Blaine, who had been trying to stop Karofsky as he tied Kurt.

"So. You're the fairy boyfriend." Karofsky smiled.

Before Blaine could repsond, Karofsky punched him straight across the face. Blaine staggered, then fell to the ground. Karofsky kicked and hit Blaine, rolling bloodied and bruised on the ground, whimpering in pain and crying for Kurt to help him, please, help. Karofsky laughed at his brown curls matted with blood, his beautiful hazel eyes full of fear and pain. Karofsky continued until Blaine lay absolutely still.

Kurt struggled against the ropes, salty tears rolling down his face, feeling completely and utterly helpless.

Karofsky walked up and stroked Kurt's face.

"Don't fuss Kurtsie, I'll take care of you soon enough."

Karofsky then kissed Kurt. Shoving his tongue into his mouth and moaning hot breath into the kiss.

Sobbing and more scared than he had ever been, Kurt did the only thing he could think of.

He bit down hard on Karofsky's tongue.

"Ow! Fuck! You stupid fag!" He spit blood and then grabbed Kurts chin roughly.

"Listen cocksucker. Blaine doesn't want you. Who would? You're ugly, stupid, worthless. No one loves you, and no one ever will. You're just a fucking fag. You're _dirty._"

Kurt shook as the words sunk in.

He was ugly.  
>He was stupid.<br>He was worthless, and no one would ever want him.  
>He was dirty.<p>

Karofsky attacked his face again and this time, Kurt stood there, limp and detached until Karofsky's hand snaked down Kurt's chest, slowly, and into his boxers…

"_Stop!"_

Kurt woke in a cold sweat, salty tears cascading down his face. He immediately reached for the phone to call Blaine but stopped before pressing the call button.  
>Why should he call Blaine? Blaine didn't want him. No one did.<br>And into the night, Kurt sat, silently shaking, but not crying.

He didn't have any more tears.

He was unwanted.

_**He was dirty.**_

_**TBC**_


	5. Chapter 5

**Authors Note: Hey guys! I just want to say thank you for all of you that subscribed/favorited this story, also thank you to allyouneedislove-mr, bluecharlotte, and Bethany-criss for your lovely reviews! Sorry it took me so long to update, I'll try to be more on top of that! If you're looking for an excellent Doctor Who fic (for those of you who enjoy it as much as I do) read Falling Slowly by WhoMe-2!**

CHAPTER 5

Blaine sat at the Lima Bean, his hands tapping out an unconscious rhythm as he took another sip of his coffee. Empty.  
>The barista had been giving him pity eyes for the last hours, staring at the full, untouched cup of coffee in front of the empty chair in front of him. He sighed and looked at the time. 4:30pm. Kurt was officially a whole hour and a half late. Blaine picked up his phone and dialed the number he knew by heart for the fifth time. In the first half hour, after Blaine had got them both their coffees, he assumed Kurt had just been stuck on clothing decisions or that Glee had run late. Then another 30 minutes passed and he started getting worried. He had texted Kurt yesterday night after warblers practice, asking him to meet him here. His previous excitement of seeing Kurt hadn't been dampened by Kurt's one letter response "K". But looking back on it, Kurt despised improper grammar and spelling- even when texting. Blaine started to worry, what if Karofsky had beaten him up, or his car had crashed or a number of terrible things! Now, half an hour later, and his 5th time getting voicemail, Blaine gave up. He stood and chucked the two coffees in the trash.<p>

_Maybe he realized finally that he's way too good for me. Or he's with another guy. Or he's sick and tired of me blathering on all the time, I'm so stupid! I should have known I'm not good enough for hi-_

"Hey!"

Blaine's inner fighting was interrupted by a yell from behind him. He paused, his hand already on the cool handle of the door. He turned in confusion.  
>"Yes?"<br>The barista looked at the empty line, and then quickly walked over to Blaine.  
>"Look, I don't mean to intrude, but if you waited this long for some friend, than this Kurt person should really start stepping it up. You might be way too good for him."<br>Blaine swallowed back the bitter laugh and the need to tell this lady off. Who did she think she was, assuming things about Kurt? Kurt, who was so… perfect. So lovely, funny, kind and sarcastic. He sighed, knowing she was only trying to make him feel better. Although he knew she thought she was helping, the only thing she succeeded in doing was reminding him of what he couldn't have. He forced a tight smile and nodded before heading out into the biting cold. He yanked open the car door, got in and slammed it shut behind him. Suddenly out of energy he lay his head down on the wheel and breathed out slowly.

"Right. A Friend."

Kurt sat on the floor of his bathroom, the door locked just in case, even though he knew Burt and Carole had gone to movies and Finn was at glee. Where he should be.

Ever since his nightmare last night, Kurt had been different. He hadn't spoken in school, his hair wasn't done with perfection (as per usual) and his outfit was simple- black skinny jeans and navy blue long sleeve with a gray scarf. He hadn't done it for attention, not at all; he just couldn't deal with _trying. _When he woke up the second time he was sweaty and shaking. Slowly, he had went into the shower and tried to scrub himself clean of the nightmare. All that had happened was raw skin with little spots of red blooming on his pale arms.  
>Even though he hadn't done it for attention, the worst part was that nobody noticed. Mercedes and Rachel had had a whole conversation with him… without him talking. And they didn't even notice a thing. He had gone home straight after school and locked himself in the bathroom.<p>

He started at the shiny metal on the floor next to him. Tears streamed down his face silently as he sat with his back against the cupboard under the sink, his knees tucked up to his chin. His face was passive on the outside but on the inside a war waged.  
>During school today, when he was getting books out of his locker, he could feel Karofsky's breath over his shoulder, snickering darkly in his ear. He froze, fear rendering his limbs useless, although every cell in his body cried out for him to turn and walk away.<p>

"So. Faggot. How's your day been? Make out with any other fairies lately?"

Swallowing in the fear that plagued him he turned and looked right into Karofsky's eyes.

"I don't know Karofsky, have you?"

Although he knew Blaine would have been proud (_Blaine_. His heart cracked a little more, knowing the other boy would never want him), he paid dearly for his bravery.

He felt his head slam against the lockers and his back hit the lock of the locker. Dizzy and light headed his slid down the locker, wincing in pain. He felt a shadow cross him as Karofsky leaned over. Closing his eyes and expecting more pain, Kurt sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth.

"You tell anyone faggot. And I swear it will be the last thing you ever do. I will _kill_ you."

His breath came out with a whoosh as the most fear he had ever felt, rivaled only by when his Dad had told him that his Mom was in the hospital, struck him right in the core.

Reliving this scene on his floor, the tears stopped. He could feel it, right there in his bathroom, he could feel Karofsky's hot breath on his neck, he could see the meaty hand picking up the knife and handing it to Kurt, sneering at him, telling him "_You are not worth it"._

Kurt stared down the cool metal in his hand. He raised the knife slowly and ran it across his wrist lightly, so it didn't leave a mark. He sucked in a tight breath and rested the knife on his wrist. He was about to pull back when-

_**Ding-Dong! Ding-Dong!**_

Lowering the knife, he let out his breathe and stood up slowly. As he walked down the stairs and into the kitchen he put the knife away. He looked into the mirror and realized it was blatantly obvious he had been crying. He grabbed his phone off the counter as he walked to the door.  
><em>5 Missed Calls From Blaine<br>_He powered the phone down without checking his messaged and chucked it on the table. He opened the door slowly, looking down as he did so, to hopefully hide his red eyes. Staring at the shiny black shoes in front of him, he said quietly, "Yes?" before locking his blue eyes on honey colored hazel ones.

"Kurt, what… what happened?"

And that was when Kurt fainted.


	6. Chapter 6

**Authors Note: I'm terrible, I know, but now that I've pretty much settled in to High School, the updates hopefully won't be so far apart. Thank you to marli-slashs fan, Pineappleapples, figureskater1995, and becca579 for your reviews! I love getting feedback from you guys, if you have any helpful tips or pointers I'd be glad for your help Enjoy Chapter 6!**

CHAPTER 6

"_I don't know Mr. Hummel… Sorry, Burt… No, Mercedes didn't see him at lunch today, I'm not sure if he ate… Of course I'll stay… I completely understand."_

"_Okay, Thanks Burt. Bye."_

Kurt realized he was slowly waking, but he didn't want to. His covers were so warm and the light pressure on his hand felt so comforting and…

Shit.

Kurt worked to keep a frown off his face as his mind began to piece the past events together. He was about to do it, he was so close, when the doorbell… the doorbell and Blaine…

But then what happened? He remembered shiny dark shoes and hazel eyes and curly hair and a broken voice and…

Shit. He had fainted.

The phone call.

Blaine had called his Dad. They were going to find out, they couldn't find out, they-

"NO!"

Kurt shot up in the bed, almost giving Blaine, who had been lightly rubbing circles on Kurt's hand, a heart attack.

"Jesus Christ! Kurt, what the hell?"

Kurt, now extremely dizzy from all the blood rushing to his head, turned to look at Blaine, who had a very surprised look on his face.

"What are you doing here?"

Taking a deep breath, Blaine set his face in his hands, and then peered at Kurt through the spaces between his fingers.

"Kurt. I know you don't want to talk about it, but it's an issue a lot of people have and…"

Kurt couldn't hear what Blaine was saying. Everything sounded like white noise because _he knew_. He knew about the knife, he must have seen it while he was waiting for Kurt to wake up-

"And I care a lot about you, Kurt. You need to eat."

Kurt turned and looked Blaine straight in the eyes, emotions battling in his stomach. _Blaine didn't know._ On one side, the stronger side, Kurt rejoiced that Blaine didn't know. But on the other side, he was hurt. Hurt that Blaine didn't consider the possibility that it could have been something else, more than Kurt's lack of appetite. Kurt knew anorexia was a real problem, but he also knew that he had once ranted at Blaine in the coffee shop over how anorexia is a terrible thing, he felt terrible for people with it, and there was nothing wrong with eating healthy as long as you didn't cross that line.

"You're not seriously suggesting that I'm… anorexic?"

"I'm very serious. You _fainted _Kurt! Do you know how worried I was? I've seen you eat, you take about three bites and then you're done!"

Kurt ignored the warm feeling in his stomach after hearing Blaine's worry for him, and put on the mask of skeptic and sarcastic that he was so familiar with.

"If you really were so attentive to my eating habits, you'd know that I meet you right after school or after glee. Which means only about an hour or two earlier I was eating lunch. This means usually, I'm not really hungry."

Kurt knew he was being rude and that Blaine was only trying to help, but the fear of Blaine finding out what he had been doing was too great. It was in that moment, as he saw the relief flood Blaine's face, that Kurt knew Blaine could never find out. How could he do that to him? Blaine would be crushed, he would blame himself, and he would never be able to forgive himself. And if Kurt was going keep Blaine in the dark about what was going on… he and Blaine couldn't be together anymore.

"Well there's no need to be sarcastic, I was just trying to help… But I'm really glad you're not… you know. I don't know what I would do if something ever happened to you, Kurt."

Blaine's warm hazel eyes were filled with warmth as he looked at Kurt, so much warmth that it made Kurt feel as if someone had rested a blanket around his shoulders. Normally, Kurt would have been contented to never leave the warmth of Blaine's eyes. But now whenever Blaine looked at him with that expression of caring, of hope, and friendship… all Kurt could think about was Blaine lying bloodied on the ground. Karofsky could never find out about Blaine, and Blaine could never find out about Kurt. Blaine was too wonderful, too special to be ruined by someone as… _dirty_ as Kurt.

When Kurt looked away and felt as if the room had dropped ten degrees. When he looked back at Blaine a minute later, his blue-green eyes showed not care, or love, but emptiness. His skin looked so pale, paler than normal, and his hands trembled on the blankets.

"I think you need to go, Blaine."

"What?"

"It's time for you to go. Obviously, I'm fine, and I'd appreciate it if you left so I could get a little more rest."

"Kurt, are you feeling okay? Did I do something to offend you? Because I really didn't mean to hurt your fee-"

"_I'm fine, Blaine."_

Every inch of Blaine's body longed to stay, to keep Kurt company, to make sure he was okay, but it was obvious by the cold emanating from Kurt that Blaine was not welcome. _'I'm fine'_. He didn't seem fine. But Blaine didn't want to push it- he had just accused him of being anorexic, Kurt probably isn't feeling very friendly towards Blaine…

"Well… Okay. I guess I'll see you later then. Text me, okay?"

Blaine got up slowly from the chair next to Kurt's bed, and went to leave but paused in the doorway, and turned around.

"You know I'll always be there for you, right?"

For the smallest of moments, so quick, Blaine later thought he imagined it, an expression of deep pain, deeper than Blaine had ever felt in his entire young life, crossed Kurt's face. It was replaced with a tight smile and empty eyes just as fast.

"I know."

Blaine left, and Kurt sat rigid in his bed until he heard Blaine's car start up and drive away. Slowly, he eased himself back down onto the bed, and closed his eyes. He couldn't stop thinking about what Blaine had said. Kurt knew Blaine would always be there for him. That was the problem. Knowing this, he closed his eyes and cried, until there were simply no tears left.

About half an hour later, he went into the bathroom to wash his face; he could still feel the damp saltiness from his tears. When he walked in he almost tripped from trying to step over the knife on the floor. Realizing he was incredibly lightheaded from dehydration, Kurt slowly slid down the wall of his bathroom and put his face in his knees. He was so numb, so empty. He felt his hands and legs and insides get cold. The only heat in the room from coming from the hot breath on his neck. And there he was… Karofsky.

"So. The faggot's too much of a pussy to get it over with. That's cute, he thinks Blaine wants him. He thinks he has a reason to be here. You think Finn isn't embarrassed by having a fag brother? Or your Dad isn't embarrassed by having a fucking queer for a son? Finn's the child your dad wanted, not you. Mercedes and Rachel didn't even notice you today, didn't you see that. And Blaine. Blaine thinks you're annoying and whiny. He see's you for what you really are. A dirty, used up, whore. But I see you Kurt. I do."

Karofsky handed Kurt the knife and whispered so gently in his ear, Kurt almost broke from the closeness of it all.

"I see a boy who is thinks that he is not worth it. But Kurt, my sweet, sweet Kurt. I _know _you aren't worth it."

Gasping, Kurt grabbed the knife from Karofsky's hand, longing to get it over with, to be done with everything.

He felt like all the air in the room was gone. Sucked away. The only sound was his gasps as he tried to breathe through the crushing emotion. He never thought it would come to this. Never thought he would feel the cool metal on his skin, or the adrenaline rush just from feeling, because he hadn't felt in so long. It had only been a week since the nightmare, but knowing that a week was all it took to break him made him only more sure that this was the only way to end the numbness. He never thought he would ignore that voice in his head that screamed at him PLEASE DON'T DO THIS! The voice that sounded suspiciously like Blaine's. Never thought he just wouldn't care. He wouldn't care about the pain, the rush, the voice, the _everything _that was running through his mind. _They don't care. I don't matter._  
>The cool metal sliced his skin, a sickly red liquid ran out of him.<br>_Perfect._


	7. Chapter 7

**Authors Note: It's been waaaay to long, and I apologize. I'm starting weekly updates now (I have some of next week's started) so I hope you guys won't have to wait as long! Thank you for all of your lovely reviews! **

It had been a week since the first time.

He lined them up on his wrist in neat little rows, never too big or too small. _Perfect. _He fingered the blade before dipping into the skin, never cutting too deep or too shallow. _Perfect._ And it was every night. It was every single night that after dinner with his family (who would never love him if they knew he was dirty, they can't know, he can't lose them) that he would retreat to the upstairs on the pretense of homework. But in reality, he silently locked himself in his bedroom and grabbed a cardboard box from his top shelf.

After the first time, Kurt had been lucky enough that his parents were gone to go downstairs and get gauze and Neosporin. As much as he loved the pain of the cuts, having them get infected meant a trip to the doctors that would lead to prying eyes and questions Kurt didn't know how to answer. After his father and returned and had given him a stern talk about never scaring him like that again, Kurt had told his Dad he was meeting Blaine for coffee, and left. He went to the drugstore near their house and bought gauze, Neosporin, and a sharper blade. When he returned, he grabbed a cardboard box labeled KURT'S from who knows when and put all of his purchases in it.

He liked the irony of it. The box was probably from his childhood; perhaps it was a box that he kept a few toys in to play with during card rides. Maybe it was where the black converse sneakers that Kurt had when he was little used to be. All those things, car rides with his dad filled with laughter, the sneakers that he wore when he "explored", those all used to be "KURT'S". But now they were replaced by the truth. By the cold metal running along skin, by the gauze pressed down hard on still bleeding cuts, hoping for more pain because pain was all he could really feel anymore. Those were "KURT'S" things now.

During school, Kurt kept to himself. He wasn't stupid; he knew if he dropped off the face of the earth people would start worrying and that worrying would eventually lead to discovering. So he kept his grades high (which wasn't hard considering he had always been a good student), smiled and chatted with Rachel and Mercedes in the hall and only skipped out on Glee Club on the days he realized he was subconsciously running his wrists on the edge of his desk, hoping for some pain, some feelings.

Those were the worst days.

He was always in pain. He always feared and worried. But some days, he didn't worry. He wasn't scared of anything. And he wasn't the good kind of fearless (if there was such a thing), he was the kind of fearless where he was fearless because he had no feelings. He was detached, lost and spinning with nothing to steady himself with. Those were the worst days. The days of numbness, where all he wanted was fire on his wrists and the tears spilling out of his eyes like the blood that spilled out of his cuts. Those were the days he skipped glee, sometimes even skipped last period and drove home, itching for his knife sitting lonely in KURT'S box.

Blaine had been harder to fool. Rachel and Mercedes were lovely, but Kurt had been able to hold at least ten conversations over the course of the week with them where he didn't say a world, only smiled at the right parts and nodded his head without them noticing. His Dad, who Kurt yearned not to disappoint, to impress, became worried upon seeing Kurt getting so pale, but was quickly reassured that with sectionals coming up, he was just tired. But Blaine asked questions. Blaine was also working hard with sectionals, perhaps harder than New Directions. Blaine was not easily side tracked; Blaine knew Kurt and Blaine cared.

Blaine had texted Kurt every night since Kurt had unceremoniously asked him to leave with no reply.

Friday 3:38pm Blaine: Hey Kurt, I just wanted to say I'm so sorry for what happened yesterday, please text me or call me. I'm sorry.

Saturday 12:47pm Blaine: Kurt you have every right to ignore me but I was just really worried and I'm sorry. I care about you. Please text me or call me. I'm sorry.

Sunday 8:21pm Blaine: Please text or call me. I miss you. I'm sorry.

Monday 4:30pm Blaine: Hope you had a good day. I'll stop texting you now, because obviously you need time, and that's okay. What I did was rude and presumptuous and I'm so so sorry. Please text or call me when you feel you can forgive me. I'm sorry.

It was now Wednesday night and Blaine still had no reply. He checked his phone every other minute, and every time it buzzed Blaine jumped about ten feet, but it was never Kurt. He couldn't believe how stupid he'd been, asking Kurt if he was anorexic. How many times had Kurt scoffed at the super skinny models while he and Blaine lay on his bed, flipping through the latest vogue, calling them unrealistic and unhealthy? How many times had he and Kurt attempted making cookies only to end up eating the basically all the dough out of the bowl after an intense flour fight? He knew that anorexia was not a laughing matter and was a serious issue that required professional help, so why the hell did he think that telling Kurt that he would help him get through his anorexia was in _any universe_ a good idea!

Sighing, he closed up his geometry book and got ready for bed. He laid down and was on the verge of sleep when his room lit up and a loud buzzing was heard from where his phone lay on his desk.

Blaine jumped out of his bed and ran over to where his phone lay, somehow he knew it was from Kurt.

Wednesday 10:56pm Kurt: I'm sorry for scaring you, I've just been busy with stuff. Are we still doing coffee tomorrow?

Blaine's heart jumped in his chest, ignoring how vague Kurt was being, instead just incredibly happy Kurt had finally texted him back.

Wednesday 10:57pm Blaine: No! It's my fault. It's your choice, I'd love to see you, but if you're too busy that's okay too

Wednesday 11:00pm Kurt: No, I'm not busy. See you there, usual time?

Wednesday 11:01pm Blaine: Sounds great!

Blaine sighed happily, excited to see Kurt before turning off his phone and falling into a peaceful sleep.

Kurt, on the other hand, turned off his phone, finished wrapping his wrist in gauze, and fell into a fitful sleep.

The dream started out the same as it did every night, him and Blaine walking in a forest with his Mom and Dad (it wasn't that he didn't like Carole, he adored her, she just wasn't _his_ mom). He and Blaine eventually broke off, swinging their clasped hands between them.

That was the worst part about the dream.

Because every night he had this dream, he knew what would eventually happen, he knew he would wake up shaking and crying, aching for more cuts to join the others on his wrists. But for now, in the dream, Blaine was holding his hand, and it was so warm and Blaine was laughing at all his jokes and calling him beautiful and…

For those moments, in his dream, he couldn't help but hope that maybe tonight he'll be spared.

But every night his dream eventually turned into the true nightmare it was, and tonight was no exception. It just proved to Kurt that for him, nothing good ever lasts, and he might as well get used to the pain.

And like every night, Kurt woke up, tried to calm down, and glanced over at his clock

3:39am

And Kurt had another night of no sleep, as he sat motionless in bed, waiting for his alarm to ring at 6 o'clock, waiting to go to another hellish day at school, and waiting for endless nightmares, his life doomed to repeat the same emptiness every day.


End file.
